


Strife and Sex

by Leticheecopae



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Incest, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Sexual Themes, Stridercest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leticheecopae/pseuds/Leticheecopae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of Stridercest based drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never too Hot

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any mistakes in spelling or grammar I may have missed.

It's too fucking hot to move, let alone strife, but somehow it is never too hot to fuck. The tarmac burns your skin just slightly where your shirt has come up, leaving it feeling red and raw as your back slides over the sandpaper like stuff. Bro’s hands are under your knees, keeping you bent at the hips while he shoves in rough, hips hitching in an upward spike at the end of each thrust. It drives the tip of his cock right into a spot that makes you want to scream.

You can’t though, not up here. Last time you did that the neighbors called the cops and you both had to dance one hell of a tango with the fuzz to get them to leave you alone. You bite at his mouth instead, letting him swallow the sounds you make as his hips slap your ass, the fly of his jeans brushing your cheeks with each thrust. Both of you are drenched in sweat, your clothes sticking to you almost unpleasantly.

It's not enough to make you stop, even when Bro’s sweat drips from his nose onto your shades and you’re positive you’re melting into a puddle. You just grip the back of his neck and keep his mouth where you can damn well reach it. When his hand wraps around your cock you can’t help but let out an almost sob into his mouth and he smiles against your lips. He pumps you with one gloved hand that's slicked more with sweat than lube. The feeling of skin and leather on your dick along with the cock in your ass has you moaning out release low and long into his mouth. He lets out his own barely there sound of pleasure that sounds a lot like ‘Dave’ as your body squeezes him, pulls his orgasm from him and fills you up.

Panting he pulls out before moving to lie next to you, his speed making the barest of breezes.

“It's too hot for this shit,” you finally manage, groping for your jeans while he chuckles. Already you can feel his cum oozing from you.

“Shower?” he asks and looks at you through his shades, smirk on his face.

“As long as its fucking ice water,” you reply. It doesn’t matter what temperature it is though, because in the end someone is going to be pushed up against the tiles with either a cock in their ass or down their throat. Usually that someone is you.


	2. Go F*** Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time shenanigans. Dave/Dave/Bro

You didn’t mean to go back quite this far, but fuck if you were going to complain. The you you’re currently macking on might be a couple years younger, but like hell you’re going to leave him hanging. His tongue is talented and you’re glad to know you were this good at thirteen, though you’ve picked up a few tricks in the last three years. He groans as you stroke his cock, your own dripping a bit of pre cum on his hip as you bite at his neck. Fucking yourself is something you had decided you had to try at least once, and this younger version of yourself has no problem being on board for that.

“Holy shit,” he groans as you twist your thumb. “Where the fuck d-did-” he groans low when you do it again and grin into his neck.

“You’ll find out.” There is no need for him to ask the question, you already know what it is. When you pull back there is something off about the way the light hits his face, like the fact that a few seconds ago there had been no light.

“The fuck?” Bro’s voice makes you freeze and the two of you turn to look at him. He is standing in the door to your room, or at least what had been your room. Wow, you really had gone too far back. Your stomach drops as he looks between the two of you, brow cocked but with no other tells to his face.

“Hey Bro,” you whisper as your younger self pants below you. He just stands there, staring, and you just barely catch his shift in weight. It draws your eyes to his crotch where you can see his jeans starting to tent. Your stomach lifts. “Want to join?” He doesn’t move until you lick a line up your time twins neck, make him moan as the hand that had gone still on his dick strokes it again. There is a blurr before he reappears, smuppet in hand.

“Fuck no,” your younger self groans but you make it into a moan. He’s out of the door frame and behind your nude ass in seconds, fingers ghosting over your pale skin and rubbing the nose of the toy between the cleft. There is a slight breeze and you see clothes fly as he somehow keeps the smuppet there, making your groan as you touch your time twin.

“Please,” Dave whines when you slip your free hand beneath him to play with the cleft of his ass. He’s bucking upwards, begging you as Bro kisses a line up your back.

“Do it.” Bro’s voice is in your ear, so much gruffer than you ever remember it being. The pop of a cap from behind you makes you shudder.

“Only if you do me,” you reply and there is the slightest stutter of the smuppet’s nose on your ass.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you’ve never been so happy to have created a doomed timeline.


	3. Tradition

It’s New Years and John is already past out on the couch, his father worrying that he’s going to wake up hungover; which he is. John and champagne do not mix on any level.

Washington is cold as fuck, currently encrusted in snow, and as you writhe in the white flakes they crunch beneath your back. Minutes till midnight and you and Bro had gotten just so fucking bored. You had thought that maybe waiting to see the ball drop for once would be nice. But tradition is tradition, and when Mr.Egbert went about tucking John in, removing the champagne bottle from his hand, the two of you had ollied out. There was nothing like bringing in the New Years with a good strife, especially on snow and ice where neither of you had an upper hand.

The nick you had put in Bro’s cheek is bright against his skin, almost as bright as his eyes in the dim light that makes its way into John’s backyard. Sunglasses don’t work well in ten degree weather, especially for striffing. Fog too easily. You bite your lip as he manages to ram against your sweet spot, making you groan low as snow melts against your hips, sliding around your back, and leave icy scratches over your ass. Bro has his own matching marks on his back from when you had pinned him, had gotten his pants down and a finger between his cheeks.The lube had come from someone’s pocket, and when you apparently weren’t going fast enough Bro had gotten impatient and flipped your positions. It had irked you for only a moment, then he had a finger curling inside you in the most delicious way and you had given in.

You hear fireworks down the block that echo along with the pleasure in your head, feeling the way his cock slides into you like it was made to fit your ass, the lube staying impossibly cold despite how hot he is making you. Leaning down he nips your mouth and you nip right back, moaning deep when he shifts, pushing your ankles more firmly to your ass, the heels of your snow soaked sneakers a barely there sensation on your numbing flesh.

“Happy New Years,” he growls and speeds up, making you howl along with the bottle rockets in the sky.

You love tradition.


	4. Neve Saw it Coming

“Fuck, harder Daddy. Daddy please, fuuUUUU-” Bro swallows the scream with his mouth as he rams himself deep, giving Dave exactly what he wants. Any time Dave wants something he uses that word, that damn word that has Bro’s cock twitch with need and his head spinning. Of all the kinks Bro has it was the only one he had never seen coming.  
—-  
The first time Dave had said it he hadn’t been trying to rile Bro up. Both of them had been fighting, Bro doing his best to explain that Dave needed to listen to him, that he was in charge of him. Dave had stood, his own look of impassiveness spread on his features as Bro laid everything else out in front of him. He wouldn’t talk, react, and he knew the kid was baiting him, but Bro had snapped just a little. Got his face right in Dave’s and told him how it was going to be.

“You’re not my Daddy,” Dave had replied and darted his tongue out to flick it over Bro’s mouth, efficiently silencing him for a moment of shocked silence. Dave had been trying to get him to forget about keeping him line and bait him with sex, a nasty habit he had developed since the day he figured out how much Bro had been trying to keep his mind off his tight little ass. Well fuck if the move hadn’t worked, but not in the way Dave had been hoping for. Bro had grabbed him, sat down, and bent him over his knee.

“I’m the closest thing to a Daddy you’ve got,” he had growled and tugged Dave’s underpants down before laying a smack over his ass. Dave had let out a grunt of surprise before going lax, letting Bro redden his backside with harsh swats. It wasn’t until Bro could see him actually barely wince with each hit that he stopped. He took a few deep breaths before he went to shove Dave off his lap, though he never got the chance.

“What’s wrong Daddy? That all you got?” Dave’s voice had been breathy, the barest sounds of discomfort lacing the words. Bro had never felt himself get so hard before in his life, and Dave had felt it happen against his hip. The smirk he had given Bro really did make the elder Strider shove him from his lap, and leave the kitchen. Dave had followed him a few minutes later, stopping the hand that had been working his dick and sucked him off, asking how his ‘Daddy’ liked his mouth. Bro had never cum so quickly.  
—-  
“Daddy, Daddy please let me, fuck please,” Dave begs, hands wrapping around Bro’s neck, legs locked around Bro’s hips. Bro changes his angle, hits where Dave wants it and is greeted with a sobbing cry as his hand is covered in cum. He releases seconds later, filling Dave up as he pants into the crook of his neck.

“Fuck Daddy,” Dave whispers against his ear and Bro shivers. Of all the kinks to have.


	5. Cherry Black

When you see the blood all over the apartment your heart sinks so far down you can feel it in your toes. It’s an unsteady rhythm as you step around carpet so saturated with blood it’s almost a puddle. Fear is already racing through your body, adrenaline screaming as you pull out your blade, ready to swing at the first thing that moves.

“Bro?” There is no response as you push through the apartment. There is blood on the walls, shiny and cherry black in the light from the windows. You don’t flip on the lights, there is no need to, if anything is out of place you will know. So far, everything is out of place. The futon is slashed all over, what look like bullet holes are in the walls, and you’re pretty sure that clump lying on the floor near the door used to be apart of somebodies face. Swallowing hard you look for anything that could indicate Bro, but all the blood is the same. You start down the hall, and that’s when you finally hear it, running water.

You flash step to the bathroom and jerk open the door. The curtain is only half drawn, but reveals nothing to you. Bloody clothes are strewn on the floor, hand and shoe prints dull and browning as they dry in sticky patterns on the walls, sink, and floor.

“Bro?” you croak. There is just so much blood, too much.

“S’not mine.” His voice is slightly slurred under the sound of the water and you rush to pull back the curtain. Bro is slumped against the wall, slices and cuts all over his chest and back, blood still oozing from some only to be washed away by the shitty water pressure. “At least not most of it.” The second sentence comes out tired and he shifts, almost going to his knees. You’re halfway in the shower and holding him up before he can go down, helping him sit in the tub. He says nothing as you strip off your clothes and kneel behind him, looking over what looks to be graze wounds from bullets and a few nife nicks.

“What happened?” you ask, picking up an already blood stained rag from the tubs floor and the bar of soap. Bro says nothing, just lets you start cleaning the wounds. You want to urge him to tell you, demand, but you stay quiet until he’s ready.

“They won’t be coming back,” he finally says. “Caught the fuckers trying to ransack the place, had some decent silencers,” he shifts so he is sitting sideways, looking at you as you clean a knife cut on his arm. “If they hadn’t the neighbors probably would have called the cops.” He forces a chuckle at the end. You nod, cleaning more wounds on his chest and shoulders, moving to straddle his hips so you can clean more thoroughly.

“You kill anyone?” you finally ask. Everything in him tightens, you can feel it under your hands a thighs, and he doesn’t answer you. You put the rag down and look into his eyes, amber and half lidded in pain and exhaustion. There is fear there too, fear of what you’re thinking about him. You hope that your eyes show him enough as you lean in and kiss him, mouth sliding over his as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. He is shaking, and you are shaking, and if you are both crying the shower keeps you from knowing for sure.


	6. Play My Game

How many times had Bro brought him to the edge? How many times was he going to make Dave moan for it only to cut him off at the last second, fingers wrapping tight around the base of his cock and keeping the pleasure locked away until it became a hot streak of pain up his spine? He would cry out, bite his lip, and feel it burn its way through him until it turned into an ember deep in his belly. Then Bro would stroke and Dave would breathe again, even if it was nothing more than a gasp.

The feel of jeans on his bare ass made him shudder, the hardness of Bro’s erection an almost constant pressure. It made him try and arch back, begging with his body to do more. He knew how to make it end, how to gain release, but his pride kept him silent besides pants and moans. That and somewhere deep inside he knew he needed Bro to tell him, to make him. He let out a moan.

“God you can be such a little slut,” he murmured into Dave’s hair, making him whimper. He tried to reach up, to touch him. Bro’s hand kept his arm in place, the leather around his wrist digging in enough that he would leave lines in the flesh when he got up; his other hand was trapped by his own chest. “How much do you want it, Dave?” he breathed into Dave’s ear, just loud enough to be heard over Dave’s panting breaths. “How much do you want me to bring you to the edge?” The strokes to his cock were too slow to do much more than tease. “How willing are you to take my pledge?” A twist over the tip of the swollen head made Dave jerk. “How bad you willing to play my game?” Dave felt metal drag over his ear. “All you have to do is scream my name.” Bro’s hand almost burned it moved so quickly, bringing Dave right to the edge in a matter of seconds. Then he began to slow and Dave knew what would happen, what Bro was going to do, and he couldn’t take it again.

“Bro!” He cried. “Bro, Bro fucking please fuck.” His voice became a streaming babble. “Bro, let me cum, fuck please BroaaAAHHH!” The hand on his wrist tightened as Dave came, covering long calloused fingers and leather in cum as he panted, body shaking as tears peeked through his lashes.

“Thanks for playing kid.” The words were almost gentle as Dave panted, body heavy on the surface of the desk. Everything was on fire, his body trembling gently from orgasm. All he wanted was to fall asleep, wrap himself in blankets and sleep the sleep of the well sated. Dave shuddered when the hand on his cock suddenly began to speed up again. “Time for your bonus round.” Dave didn’t know if he should cry or moan.

He did both.


	7. Play Dirty

When you rammed him he had gone down, not expecting the harsh attack. It was very un-Strider like, and the whole reason why it had worked. You both fell, hitting the tarmac covered roof, making both of your swords go skittering in a clatter of metal. His skin is sticky under your hands as you push up, palm on his chest as you pull back one fist. The other hand stays firm on his chest, shifting just the slightest over the nub against your palm. Your fist is flying just as he lets out a strange jolt, and you stop.

Bro is staring up at you, shades still in place, but you can feel his eyes on you. Your fist is still half raised as you shift the hand again and feel his body shudder just slightly, the nub of flesh under your hand a distinct pressure on your palm.

“Dave,” he says warningly as you drop your other hand and ignore him, moving your palm as a skimming pressure over his nipple, and feel him shudder. With your other hand you run it over the other nipple and feel him jerk.

“Got some tender tits on you bro?” you ask and pinch when you feel him about to buck you off. He arches just slightly, doing his best to reign himself in as you gently twist the flesh between your fingers. The movement makes him pant, jerking as you repeat the motion, being almost harsh when you twist them. He grabs at your wrists and pulls your hands away, but you think fast like he taught you. When your tongue connects with one he lets out a strangled sound, bucking up into your hips and making you smile around the skin in your mouth, sucking it and nibbling at the tip of his flesh.

“Dave?” There are so many questions in your name when he says it while letting your hands go. One grips his side, the other rubs at his other nipple, and he writhes and bucks, groaning and panting beneath you as you lap and suck. You bite once and he gives out a low, throaty moan.

“Shit, little man. You fight dirty,” he pants but doesn’t try and pull you off. You smile around a nub and flick your tongue, savoring your victory and the taste of his flesh.


End file.
